


Cold

by Lirealwrites



Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, Romeo et Juliette - Presgurvic
Genre: Angst, Ben saves Merc, M/M, Merc and ben are based off of John Eyzen and Cyril Noccolai if youre curious, This is not happy kids, im tired and should not be writing, its short because im tired, not edited or thought through, theres lots of blood and death be careful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 21:41:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19709992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lirealwrites/pseuds/Lirealwrites
Summary: “No!” Benvolio was distantly aware he had shouted that as he ran faster than he knew was possible and threw himself between Mercutio and Tybalt’s sword.Benvolio dies saving Mercutio





	Cold

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something so I looked up a prompt and just came up with this.  
> Prompt: “I was valuable enough to die for” from hey-hamlett on tumblr  
> I did change it slightly but oh well  
> Is this in character? No. Is it good? No. Is it sad? Yes.  
> Tw: for blood, death, kind of describing getting stabbed, and weird death descriptions  
> Enjoy!

“No!” Benvolio was distantly aware he had shouted that as he ran faster than he knew was possible and threw himself between Mercutio and Tybalt’s sword. He heard the sound of a sword cutting flesh, and he could feel hot sticky blood begin to gush out of the wound, staining his blue shirt. Instinctively, he clutched at the wound with one hand and backed away from Tybalt, only to trip as a sudden bout of dizziness came over him. Ben squeezed his eyes shut, but instead of hitting the ground, hands were pulling up his shirt and pressing down on the bloodied hole between his ribs. He swallowed down sudden nausea and looked up for the source of the hands. Above him, Mercutio was a complete mess. His long hair was tangled and strands stuck to his face, odd for the usually well-groomed royal. It took a second, but he realized that Mercutio was talking to him.

“Just hang on, Ben, we’ll find a-a surgeon and he’ll fix this and you’ll be good as new,” he smiled at him, but he could tell it was a mask. It was too tight, too forced. They both knew that this wound would kill the Montague, but Mercutio was never one to admit defeat. He carefully pulled Ben’s arm over his shoulder and slid an arm under the bend of his knees, then scooped him up. The sudden movement did not sit well with Benvolio’s stab wound, and he let out a strangled yell, Mercutio seemed to pale at the sound of distress but started carrying Benvolio away from the crowd that had surrounded his and Tybalt’s fight.

“Mercutio,” Ben called. Green eyes instantly snapped to him.

“Don’t talk, save your strength.”

“Mercutio,” he tried again, only to be shushed harshly. “I’m going to die.” That got Mercutio’s attention.

“No! You can’t die! I won’t let you!” Ben reached up and cupped his cheek begging him to stop. Something inside Mercutio seemed to break, and Ben could feel himself being lowered to the ground and propped against the wall of a building. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at him, I should have just left him alone for once, you’re going to die and it’s all my fault!” Ben was fairly certain that was the first time Mercutio had ever taken responsibility for anything.

“Mercutio…” He suddenly found that he couldn’t say everything he wanted to in words. He didn’t have enough time. He couldn’t say everything he wanted to Mercutio. Beautiful Mercutio, who had finally started to believe in love.

“I can’t lose you, Ben,” he confessed, he reached for Benvolio’s blonde hair and ran his fingers through it, smearing it with blood. “I’m worth nothing.”

“No,” he cupped Merc’s cheek again, leaving a bloody handprint, “You are worth everything. You were valuable enough to die for, and I would do it again and again, as many times as I needed to.” He shook his head.

“You shouldn’t have to pay for my mistakes.”

“I don’t mind.” Another wave of nausea came over him, and he had to bring his hand away from his lover to press it to his wound. Mercutio was instantly there, smoothing back his hair and kissing his forehead. They both ignored the tears streaming down their faces as Ben shakily took Mercutio’s face in his hands and kissed him. He was shifted from the wall to Mercutio’s lap and despite the pain, he was glad to be held in his last moments. Before, he had felt hot, but now all he could feel was the numbing cold. Slowly, all warmth faded Mercutio’s arms, his hair brushing against his neck, his lips. Everything turned cold until Benvolio couldn’t feel at all. The last thing he heard before the world faded was muffled screaming.


End file.
